


Aidos

by octaviamatilda



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: An almost blowjob, Anal Sex, Consensual Underage Sex, Discussion of paedophilia, Discussion of severely underage sex, Feminization, Hannibal is in his 40's, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Rimming, Rough Biker Hannibal, Roughness, Swearing, Will is perhaps 15..., given that we're basing consent on conscious and practiced intention rather than legal age, the consensual element wanders into dubcon I think, will is a brat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 05:41:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10713369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/octaviamatilda/pseuds/octaviamatilda
Summary: Will is precocious. Hannibal is a creature of keenest advantage.





	1. 1

Hannibal withdrew his tongue from the sweat soft skin of the young flesh writhing against the bare cement pillar. Under the hyper saturation of the blue-green lights, the onslaught of the strobing and the bass thud, he thought it had been a girl; after a few whiskeys and a nose full of powder, they all smelt the same, tasted the same. No matter. The thin limbed boy, delicate as a gazelle in his extremities, heaved against him, trying to pull them flush from throat to groin. He made the right sounds – kitten mewls and sweet gasps – and his arms and legs knocked deliciously at wrist and ankle, so fine boned was he. But his chest was broadening with testosterone. It met Hannibal’s bulk nearly exact. The boy was too old. Hannibal began to pull back, already allowing his gaze to wander over the sea of bodies that churned in the dark. 

Immediately, he met a pair of eyes; still, large and liquid. The young creature to which they belonged was fucking astonishing. A few metres away in the murk, the beautiful thing was at pause – calm and deliberate. Not an animal trapped in headlights, but a fine piece of jailbait pleased to be caught looking. Hannibal pushed off from the pillar, offering no excuse. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, never breaking gaze with the sweet cunt waiting for him. As he drew closer, cutting like a shark through the gloom, Hannibal felt his cock pulse in gratification. A boy. A beautiful boy. Nowhere near old enough to be in a club like this, which meant this was the perfect place for him. 

Before him now, a few inches separating them, the boy smiled. Plush red lips, dark curls damp with sweat, delicate jaw and wet, thick-fringed eyes. A girl child – soft and tender as lamb’s wool – in one blink, and a boy – supple, ripe as a peach – in the next. Hannibal would not let this one escape him. He didn’t get the chance to speak first. 

‘I’m Will.’ He was steady; flushed but unhurried, clear. If he’d been drinking, it didn’t show. Hannibal had no doubt he could charm a round of drinks out of anyone he chose.

‘Hannibal.’ He took a step closer. Will’s nose only came to his collarbone. ‘Well then, Will. Are you here alone?’ 

A glistening tongue took his bottom lip into his mouth. It reappeared shining, beet-red in the darkness. ‘Not any longer.’ Will tilted his head up, holding Hannibal’s charcoal stare as his slim fingers crept up along the thick waist beneath the open leather jacket. Silvered hair feathered down over Hannibal’s forehead; he loomed – cigarette smoke, strong spirits, leather – and pressed a muscled thigh between Will’s own slim legs. He steadied the boy with a firm hand on the side of his marble neck. 

‘Do you live nearby?’ Hannibal rumbled, almost pushing the question into Will’s mouth. 

‘Why? Do you want to meet my parents? I don’t think they’d like you.’ 

Hannibal’s cock twitched at the breathy laugh that Will puffed across his lips. 

‘How old are you?’ The answer would make no difference. 

Will dropped his gaze to Hannibal’s broad chest, then looked up through his lashes. ‘Is your place close by?’ 

Little fucking tart. 

Hannibal pushed, lifted his thigh a little; he felt Will grind against it, looking for heat and pressure through two layers of denim. The small noise in the back of the slim throat made Hannibal want to bend Will, force him down, split him open.

Hannibal dropped his mouth to Will’s bony shoulder, rasping his sharp teeth along the nobbly rise barely concealed beneath an over-worn soft tee. Up to his neck, then, finally catching the taste of fledgling skin by dragging his tongue heavy and wet up to Will’s ear. 

‘Do you like bikes?’


	2. Chapter 2

The ride was a blind, black stride from the depths of the basement club to Hannibal’s apartment. Will didn’t know where he was. He wasn’t worried in the least. His parents believed he was staying at the house of his best friend, a darling slut who covered his back as he covered hers, and he knew -knew in his deepest, reddest core - that Hannibal would want him again. And again. And again. And for that, he would have to be delivered safely to his destination of choice afterwards. 

Will ambled through Hannibal’s front door, surprised at being left unmolested as he did so. The living space was un-dark in the way only a night city could make it; the curtains were left undrawn and garish lamplight from the street limned an irregular rectangle on the pale rug. Bright enough to taste by. 

The lock snapped shut behind him. Will turned to the clink of keys thrown on the side; Hannibal, dark and broad and leather jacket cast away, stood in the doorway. Impassable. Will almost felt tempted to indulge in histrionics. His prick hardened at the thought of what this man would do to him if he asked to leave, if he begged, cried, screamed. One of them had hit him before; Will had been served a vicious backhand when he’d gone too far with the teasing. He’d laughed in delight with his own blood shining on his teeth and the stupid fucker had panicked, thrown Will’s clothes back at him and bundled him into the street babbling about not being that kind of man. They were all that kind of man, more or less. 

Will approached him, chin up, lips parted. He plastered himself to Hannibal’s torso, mouthing at a heavily furred chest, the sensation pricking his lips and the tip of his nose through the thin cotton shirt. 

Hannibal growled, breathing in the saccharine sweat from the top of Will’s head. He grasped the slim upper arms of the boy that rippled and sighed against him, damp mouthed and hot skinned. 

‘How old are you?’ Hannibal spoke into his curls, near snarling the demand. 

Will gave a low sweet laugh. It pitched up into a gasp when Hannibal spun him and laid him heavily against the door. He forced Will’s head up, a strong hand beneath his jaw. 

‘Is that it? That what you’re into – kiddies?’ The lewd, oily bravado on Will’s face gave the older man pause. Hannibal gave Will a long steady look.

‘Some people are never ready for it, whatever their age. And others are ready before the law allows. A good deal before, in certain cases.’ Hannibal showed his teeth. He simply looked and looked. His silence spoke as it stretched on: I am not beneath this and neither are you. ‘How long have you been doing this?’ Hannibal changed tack.

Will gave a tight grin and his eyes slid closed. When his gaze snapped back, it was mock innocent; as false as it was, Hannibal’s gut clenched. 

‘Long enough.’ Will surged against Hannibal, his willow-whip frame pushing off from the counterpoint of the solid door behind him but not even knocking Hannibal off balance. Strong thighs planted evenly kept him immovable as ballast; he allowed the attempt, then roughly shoved the boy backwards. He thunked against the wood, head and shoulders striking with surprising volume. 

Hannibal was as rigid as iron in his jeans; while Will gulped and caught his breath, blinked away the stars that had burst behind his eyes, Hannibal pushed his groin, and again, and again, against the delicate cradle of the boy’s pelvis. Will whined at the crushing pressure. 

‘I’m 16.’ Will relented. 

Hannibal stilled. 

Will’s grin was obscene, teeth like pearls in the half-dark. ‘In seven months.’ Will choked out the last word on a laugh. His lips were raw and self-bitten, waiting, gasping, for the older man’s bruise. Instead, Hannibal pressed his open mouth to the boy’s neck, sucking the flesh, pulling red-purple blood to the surface; he growled in his throat to hear, to feel, Will practically purring. Before his quick tongue could cost him any dearer, Hannibal stopped it: he stepped back to rip Will’s t-shirt over his head, yank his jeans down his hips and force him, fist tightening in his curls, to toe off his shoes. 

Will wore no underwear; his cock looked raw and desperate. In just his socks, uneven on his razor blade shins, Hannibal pushed Will to his knees on the wire-hair doormat. With one hand still clutched in soft curls, he opened the buckle of his belt and his fly with the other. He pulled his prick free, heavy and thick and uncut. Hannibal gazed down at the boy; his own breath was coming a little faster now and patches of sweat marked out semi circles beneath his arms and a deep arrow down the centre of his shirt. Will looked up, eyes shining and tongue already out and panting. 

The source of Hannibal’s infinite patience was drooling at his feet. He asked again with unusual restraint. ‘How long have you been doing this?’

Will pushed up into Hannibal’s touch, roiling in his grip. ‘You really want to know, don’t you? Fuck, you are into kids. I knew it when I saw you.’ He brought his slick lips to within a hair’s breadth of the plump cock head in front of him. His tongue flickered out and Hannibal’s eyelids shuttered for the briefest instant. ‘Since I was 12.’ Will tried to nudge forward, mewled when he couldn’t. ‘Since I convinced one of my dad’s friends to touch me at a dinner party. He couldn’t believe his luck. He came in his pants before he even managed to get a finger in me. I was disappointed.’ 

Hannibal canted his head, considering. Without warning, he pulled Will up, hand on the back of his neck. He stumbled as he was shoved, not seeing where he was going until he was upended onto a large bed. Sprawled face down, he panted as strong hands pushed his slim thighs open, pulled his hips up into the air. He dared not move as he listened to the rustle of Hannibal shucking his jeans down, discarding his shirt and kicking away his boots. 

Will waited, shivering with need. The bed dipped behind him. 

‘Some are ready before the law allows. You’ve been getting men to fuck you since before most boys even know what their prick is for.’

Will could only huff out a small laugh. ‘Men like you.’ He smiled into the bedclothes. 

‘Men like me.’ Hannibal echoed. ‘I’ve known hungry little sluts like you all my life. And if I’d known you all yours, I wouldn’t have come in my pants like your father’s friend.’ 

A blunt finger ghosted over Will’s furled hole. He gasped as it spasmed, bringing his wrist to his mouth with a desire to sink his teeth into something. There was a flash of humid breath on the back of his thigh, just at the join of his ass. 

‘Fuck, but you’re as soft as cream. And your cunt is the pinkest I’ve ever laid eyes on.’ Hannibal rumbled against his skin. 

Will shivered, groaned quietly and worked himself back, trying to push his ass to Hannibal’s mouth. The heavy presence at his rear only grunted, immobilising the boy’s hips with an iron grip. The brute could toss him like a ragdoll. Will half wanted him to.

‘Don’t fucking move, princess. I want you where I can see you.’ 

A thick wet tongue rasped over Will’s hole. He couldn’t stop the wail that rose from his throat; his eyes screwed shut as his mouth gaped open. 

‘That’s it’, Hannibal spoke with his lips still pressed to Will’s tacky skin. ‘Let me hear it.’ He seemed to be murmuring to himself. ‘Always sweeter when they cry.’ 

Another swipe of tongue; Will pulsed and his cock twitched beneath him. 

‘Fucking old pervert.’ He gave a raw gust of laughter. ‘You’d have ruined me, wouldn’t you? If you were my first.’ 

The scorch of Hannibal’s body suddenly enveloped him, the radiating bulk of muscle and bone pressing down on Will’s softly curved back. His bird bone ribs shuddered under the weight. Will was helpless, desperate to grind against the boiling erection that laid heavy against his ass. Two broad fingers forced their way into his mouth, compressing his tongue, searching for the wet silk cavity of his throat. Saliva dribbled into the sheets. 

‘Listen up.’ Hannibal’s muggy breath in his ear. ‘I don’t want to hear anything but yes, no and your sweet fucking sobbing. And believe me, when I fill your tight little cunt you won’t be able to do anything but cry. But right now, I just want you to fucking listen.’ He murmured low and dangerous. ‘I don’t give a shit what you think of me. I don’t care if you think I’m a pervert. All that teasing, playing the fucking coquette, trying to get me to spill my worst Lolita wet dream to you; it won’t work. I’ve fucked boys, girls. Older than you, younger than you. Much younger than you.’ Hannibal viciously pinched Will’s ear lobe between teeth. His gut lurched and he moaned softly. ‘And kids like you…you always come to me. You want me to pull you apart and fucking open you on my cock because no one else will. You see me and you know I’ll do it. And I don’t fucking care how young you are, or however and for whatever fucking reason you lie about your age. 12, 13…if you show me you want it, I’ll give it to you.’ 

Hannibal removed his fingers from Will’s mouth, slick down to his palm with saliva. Without hesitation, he reached back and shoved two fingers in Will’s hole. The boy gave a genuine cry of pain, an indrawn breath and then a sob. Hannibal pumped his fingers cruelly, twice, three times. Will bucked and thrashed, moaning as he loosened. His knuckles were clenched white in the bedsheets. 

‘And I can hear,’ Hannibal continued, rumbling against Will’s back, ‘how much you fucking want it.’ 

A broad hot hand scraped up Will’s neck and settled in his hair, pulling curls straight and curving his throat up and out. Will gasped into the muffled quiet of the room, shaking with pain and want. His cock still dripped red and swollen beneath his tender belly. Hannibal stabilised himself, widening his knees and pushing Will’s legs further apart. Preamble done with, Hannibal lined himself up against Will’s hole and thrust, slow and unrelenting, sinking in halfway before he stopped. 

Will panted, trembling. His breath shivered on the air, high and frantic in sharp complement to Hannibal’s low pleased grunts. The boy was so tight it was almost painful to Hannibal. Almost. He sank in the last few inches, watching Will’s body, raw and red, stretch around him. Will was sobbing now, breathing like he had run a mile. 

A coarse laugh. ‘You sure you still want it, princess?’ Hannibal snapped his hips, shoving Will carelessly.

Will tried to nod, couldn’t, swallowed wetly and tried to engage his voice. ‘I don’t- ye- yes.’

Hannibal laid himself low over Will, flattening him to the mattress. He pinned his bony wrists in place by his head, deliberately chafing his stubble roughly over Will’s soft cheek. ‘You don’t? Well it’s too late now, wouldn’t you say?’

**Author's Note:**

> Aidos. The Greek goddess of shame and reverence.


End file.
